Page 307 of Untouchable

* * *

Parker triesto tell Harp he loves him, tries to tell Harp how close he feels to him in this moment, how completely and utterly sure this high and lonely mountaintop is the place where he belongs, the place where he’s always been meant to be, how he’s so utterly, deliriously happy, but he’s beyond words at this point, and all he can do is hold on tighter as Harp fucks him and make little gasps and whimpers. He can feel his orgasm building deep within him, and it’s different than before, slower and lower and somehow much more powerful anyway.

"I want you to come, baby," Harp says, taking Parker's cock in one slicked hand. "Will you come for me now?"

Parker moans and nods, because it’s all he’s capable of at this point, and at this angle, it only takes a few more hard, needy thrusts of Harp’s hips against him until Parker reaches the point of no return. He cries out loudly, dropping down onto his elbows and arching his back as he works his hips back against Harp, matching his rhythm, his body automatically seeking out whatever pleasure is there to be had.

“Oh—fuck—” Parker gasps. “I’m gonna—I’m—I’m gonna—”

* * *

Harp's hipssnap faster as Parker urges him on gasping and arching, his cock going abruptly harder in Harp's grip. Parker's sounds and the pleasure of his body are too much for Harp.

"Fuck, Parker, I'm coming," Harp says, and there's so much for his body to keep track of in that moment, the stroking of his hand, the rocking of his hips, the squeeze of the body beneath his as Parker begins to come, the throbbing of the cock in his hand. Harp realizes his eyes are shut, realizes that he's been babbling as he fucks Parker desperately, stroking and twisting him through his orgasm, Parker's cum hot on his hand. Harp's orgasm starts slow and then comes on all at once and he goes dizzy from the force of it, the hot, radiating, boiling-over feeling of pleasure mixed with affection and love and relief.

Harp groans Parker's name into the skin of his neck as he fills him.

* * *

Parker comesand comes and comes, and just when he thinks his orgasm is abating, he keeps coming until there’s a wet spot the size of Lake Michigan beneath him. In his head is only a muted disbelief—god, I can’t believe I’m still coming,—and a rosy, heady pleasure at feeling Harp fill him, of listening to Harp’s sounds and knowing it’s Parker’s own body that has drawn these sensations out of Harp.

Both breathing hard, Harp brings Parker to lay with him on his side without pulling out, as if wanting to be as close as they can be for as long as they can. He kisses Parker’s neck and murmurs I love you against his shoulder.

Parker’s mind goes hazy and vague as the afterglow takes over, and he’s content to lay there, Harp still inside him, wrapped in Harp’s arms. He can’t believe how loved he feels, as if Harp’s feelings for him are something tangible, something cashmere-soft and warm he can reach out and run his fingers across.

A crooked grin becomes a full on smile becomes a giggly, goofy, completely fucked-out laugh.

* * *

When Parker laughs,Harp can't stand not to see his face and finally he pulls out, rolling Parker gently over so that they're facing each other. Parker narrows his eyes and gives Harp a look that is somehow wicked and satisfied all at once, as if Harp has handed him the world and he can't decide what he wants to do with it next. The look is so distinctly Parker.

The reality of this—this moment, the two of them, how far he's come, the hurts he no longer clutches to his chest like armor, the things about himself that he hates that he no longer centers his whole world upon, the utter ineffable luck he's had in meeting Parker—it swells too big in Harp's chest.

"What?" Parker asks, laughing again, and the bubble of affection is just too big. It pops, and Harp is laughing now, too.

How is it possible? How did this happen? How can I love him so much?

"You have the best smile," Harp says finally, reaching out to cup Parker's face. "Did you know that? The best one on earth. The best smile that ever smiled. I'm sure of it, actually."

* * *

Parker triesto make a face at Harp, but it doesn’t work—he’s smiling too hard to do anything but that. He sighs happily as Harp pulls him closer for a gentle kiss. It’s almost dark now, and when they part, Parker reaches up to gently trace his fingers over the planes of Harp’s face—the ridge of his nose, the strong jut of his jaw, the surprising fullness of his lips.

It occurs to him that though Parker has never cared much for the position they’d finished in, it felt entirely different with Harp, and once he realizes this, he can’t believe he hadn’t predicted it. Of course Harp could make him feel cherished and loved, no matter how their limbs were arranged.

“Oh, Harp,” Parker sighs, his voice fond and contended. “You are—” He trails off, his throat tight, the words choked out by love and affection and complete disbelief that he’s this fucking lucky.

* * *

"Yeah. I know the feeling,"Harp says.

He couldn't stop smiling now if he wanted to.

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